Bounties and Boundaries

Cynder had to admit, the journey to the Hunter's Prize pub wasn't very pleasant from a sightseeing standpoint. Banzai had agreed to take her to – in his words – the 'greatest bounty hunter bar in the city.' They had to trudge through the city slums. Burst sewer pipes assaulted her nostrils with a pungent odour and concerning red stains painted the dark alleyways. She felt bad for the people living here, having to live in such squalor.

"You are ready, dragon?" Banzai held his grubby paws on his hips. He admired the building in front of them. "This is place. It is beauty, yes?"

Cynder would have to disagree with him on that one. It looked like a dancing troll had come flailing through the place. Many of the stained glass windows were shattered or cracked. The timber pillars that held up the balcony had crude gashes slashed into them. The uproar of dozens of deep voices bellowed from inside. Even Banzai's restaurant was better maintained than this dump, and he threw meat cleavers at dart boards.

"Are you sure this is the place? It looks kind of rundown."

"Cobblers, you speak. Place is heaven. Banzai will be buried in walls when Banzai dies. This is Banzai's home. Soon, Banzai's home will be your home."

She felt oddly touched by his words. Besides, who was she to complain? She used to live in a spooky tower amidst a constant thunderstorm.

"Let us go." He pushed the saloon doors open and hobbled in. She followed in afterwards.

If the outside was bad, then the inside was a battlefield. Big burly cheetahs with tree trunks for arms sat around damaged tables playing cards. Moles sang in awful unison, like a choir of raspy walruses, while they clinked their drinks merrily. Another poor cheetah lay unconscious upon a crushed table. There was even a mixture of species huddled around a board at the back, covered in a thick blanket of sheets. Most of the patrons had some form of disability, whether it was an eyepatch, missing ears or even a limb. Even the barkeeper, with his thick grey mustache, had a prosthetic arm. On top of this, each hunter seemed packed to the brim with weapons. These were the kind of people that hid daggers in their socks. One word came to mind – rough. She definitely wouldn't want to cause a scene here.

She followed the mole through, weaving cautiously through the mob, trying not to bump into anyone. She had to swiftly evade one of the brutish cheetahs who got punched and fell off his stool backwards and almost landed on top of her.

She already disliked rowdy drunks and this place seemed to attract them in swarms. But that didn't matter. She didn't have to stay for long. Just get in, grab a bounty, and get out again. The rest was either outside the city walls or turning the bounty in to the guards. She didn't come here to make friends. She came to earn money and have fun with her life.

She already knew the procedures. Banzai had been kind enough to sign her up and teach her the basics, along with providing her with some basic equipment – handcuffs, maps and a rather unique device designed to restrain dragons. It was a thick metal collar with an ominous green gem buried on the inside. Cynder recognised the type of crystal, having seen Gaul use it and having even used it herself before. It was designed to restrain the wearer's element.

She felt it was a bit much for the mole to be doing all this for her, so when she offered to do something in return, the mole half-jokingly said that this was the start of turning the Angry Blazer into the greatest bounty bar in the city. She chuckled at the idea, but perhaps she could help achieve that dream of his.

"Oi. There ya are, ya fat bastard," a voice cut through the chatter, aimed towards them.

A mole and a cheetah off to the side were looking at them, more specifically at Banzai. The mole wore a red bandana that covered his left eye (Cynder presumed he must have had an accident resulting in the loss of the eye), along with an old set of dented armor. While the cheetah had dull grey fur with black stripes, he at least seemed to have a better grasp of his limbs compared to his friend and most of the other patrons. He was also equipped with a set of plain leather armor and he propped a crossbow against the wall beside him.

"I was beginning to think ya bailed on me, ya chicken!" the same mole added.

Banzai scoffed. "Banzai never backs down from deal!" He marched over to the other mole.

It was clear to Cynder that these were a couple of Banzai's old buddies. She stayed put, preferring not to get absorbed into this childish name-calling.

"And looks like ya alone as I said ya would be. Cough up the dough, pudge."

"No. Banzai promised Cynder. Banzai brought Cynder. Step forward, dragoness," he shouted over his shoulder.

Cynder gulped; it seemed she didn't have a choice. She stepped from the crowd with a nervous smile.

The one-eyed mole's jaw dropped to the floor. "Ba–" It was like getting slapped in the face with a wet fish in a sword fight.

Banzai threw his head back with laughter that echoed through the crowd. The cheetah shook his head, smiling. Even Cynder couldn't help but smile wider. She only had a rough idea what was going on, but even then his reaction was amazing.

The mole glared at the cheetah, his mouth still wide enough to fit a brick in it. His hands jerked towards the dragoness. "But... This is bullshit!"

The cheetah shrugged. "I warned you not to bet against Banzai."

Banzai smugly leaned towards the other mole. "Money over."

As the two bickered, the cheetah turned to the dragoness. "So, you're the fresh meat? I know Banzai kept rambling on about it, but I didn't believe it myself. Yet here you are."

"Yeah…" Cynder didn't know how else to respond. He wasn't rude, but the way he was looking her over creeped her out.

"Well, you seem to have the tools of the trade. I think you could claim a corner of the market for yourself at least. Not many dragons take up bounty hunting."

Cynder was about to respond when Banzai talked about a different subject.

"Say, where is Kelvin?" He scanned the room to make sure his third friend wasn't hiding.

The first mole bit his upper lip while the cheetah's ears drooped.

"He…" The mole started. "He ain't with us anymore. He went and took on the impossible bounty. But he ain't returned. We went and looked for him. We only found his body."

"Banzai see." He nodded. His voice whispered against the bustle of the bar. "Kelvin died as what he loved. One of us." He grabbed the brew in front of him, purchased beforehand by his buddies, and raised it to the skies. "To Kelvin!"

"To Kelvin!" The other two sang. They pushed their drinks into the air and the three mugs rang. The trio then brought the beer to their mouths and drank.

Cynder watched in awe. It was peculiar how some people dealt with death. Others cried in solemnity while these guys celebrated. In a way, she supposed it was like honouring a fallen soldier.

She didn't mind waiting a little longer if it was for a good reason. However, she wasn't keen on how quickly Banzai was chugging. She knew he could hold a drink, but it wouldn't take long until he was under the table at this rate. "Erm, I'd hate to ruin the moment, but aren't we working today?"

The mole ignored her, distracted by the important task of guzzling his drink.

"Don't fret over it. He'll be fine," the cheetah said.

"But he needs to teach me the rules and that."

"Rules?" The cheetah raised an eyebrow. "The only rules you need to follow are the city's, and those on the paper. The rest is up to you. Now, quit your worrying and have a drink." He slid one of the mugs over to her.

Her awkward laugh went unnoticed by the cheetah as he returned to his own drink. One of the things the mole in dented armor said earlier did raise an eyebrow, though. She turned to him. "Say, did you mention an impossible bounty?"

"Oh yes. Are ya interested, fresh meat?"

The cheetah smacked the mole behind the head with a satisfying clang. "Shut it." He then sighed when he realised that the dragoness was intrigued. "Yes. There is an impossible task. A ridiculous amount of grublins have turned a mine into their home. It is no place for a newbie, even with your skills. It would take at least two of you to even stand a chance. We've lost too many good men to it. Not even teams of us have been able to complete it."

"Two of me, you say?" She had an idea.

"Aye! I love her attitude," the mole said cheerily.

The cheetah growled at him before turning back to Cynder. "This is a warning. Bands of hunters have tried and failed. It's called the impossible task for a reason."

"Bah. Haven't changed, have you?" Banzai chipped in. "Let her have chance, I say."

The cheetah scowled. "We've just lost one of our own to that fucking quest and already you want to send someone else to their deaths? You know what, fuck it. If you retards wanna get yourselves killed then go ahead. I won't be drinking to it when you do." He slung his crossbow over his shoulder and stormed towards the bar.

"Cat hasn't changed at all." Banzai shrugged. "Ah well. Time I showed you ropes?"

"Sure." She felt bad pissing the cheetah off, but she had to admit it was funny.

"See ya later, shithead, keep the new meat fresh for me." The armoured mole waved his drink.

"Bye bye, rubbish bin!"

Cynder followed the mole to the board. She noticed him receive some glares from the other hunters as he barged past, so she decided to hold back. She towered over the majority of them anyway so she could clearly see the board. In the top right corner she spotted the infamous job. It was almost taunting her. "Soon…" she thought.

Banzai spent barely a minute looking at the jobs before ripping one of the more hidden ones off the board. He then pushed back through the huddle.

"What have you got? An army of grublins? A troll and a pack of wyverns?" She was excited. For a while now she'd been wanting to use her skills for a good cause.

"No. None of those." The mole waved his paw. "We catch bread thief."

"A bread thief…?" she replied. "Seriously?"

"Today, you put knowledge to practice. Tomorrow, maybe Banzai find you troll. Sound good?"

Cynder rolled her eyes, but her smile remained. "Fine. Let's get this one done, then. What do they look like and where are they?"

"Hoodlum in white shirt, last seen Seinfeld Path. May be with others. We must capture with no major injury."

She grinned at the part where it mentioned about others. She liked the idea of a possible brawl. She was still miffed at the lack of action of this job, but everyone had to take baby steps. She'd already figured out her journey between now and completing that impossible bounty.

First she'd breeze past this job and start making waves in the bounty hunter community. Then, she'd convince Spyro to become her partner in crime – crime fighting. Then together they'd complete the impossible job and bring the house down on the rest of the bounty hunters.

She had so much going for her and she was going to make the most of it. That would make Spyro more proud of her than ever before.

She could barely sleep last night due to the amount of times she thought of him. In fact, she reckoned she would still be thinking of him had it not been for her new job. Still dreaming of the way he romantically swept her off her feet – "Dammit, Cynder. You can't think like that; no matter how hard Spyro makes it, you can't think like that."

She had to think of him, but not like that. She needed to have his interests at heart and figure out how to help him, and not how he seemed to want to be with her as well. For someone who was married, he seemed to be going out of his way to impress her...

She cursed at herself. She needed to get her head out of the pipes.

"You okay?" Banzai piped up.

Cynder turned to him. "Yeah, sorry. Just distracted. Let's go."

The mole nodded, and the two of them left.

It felt like she was living a dream. A day in the park with just the three of them and not even a mention of Cynder. Spyro was much peppier than usual, playing for hours with their son; their laughs sung in her ears.

They sat in a field on top of a plateau that overlooked the rest of the city. It was a common spot many families visited. Large oaks stretched their branches to shelter those hiding underneath from the unbearable sun.

Her personal highlight happened when sitting on their blanket. Spyro gave her a quick nuzzle before allowing her to rest her head on his neck. She could feel his gentle heartbeat, pulsing in time with hers. The moment was simply tranquill. No words, no worries. Just the two of them supporting each other and their hatchling racing through the rolling meadow.

He even asked if there was anything bothering her, and his tone held a level of care she hadn't seen in forever.

Now she couldn't answer that question truthfully, since he was the thing that bothered her. However, that problem seemed to be starting to solve itself. So she answered no.

He seemed to be content with the answer and instead gazed upon the horizon.

Even though he still couldn't hold a conversation, it was like an overnight transformation.

She despised not knowing Cynder's secret. How did she know how to make him happy? Cyril insisted she shouldn't pry into Spyro's business. Maybe she could ask her, though. It would make it so much easier to cope with him.

She could at least ask how yesterday went, couldn't she? That wasn't 'intervening.'

"So, how did yesterday go?"

He seemed surprised at the question. "Yeah, it went well. Not much happened."

She didn't like the emptiness of the answer. There was definitely more to it than that. "Oh, come on, you can tell me."

Spyro shrugged. "Not much happened, honestly. We had dinner, talked for a bit afterwards and that's it. Nothing happened."

She noticed his tone deepen. He was getting on the defensive. She remembered Cyril's words of warning. "By driving yourself into that special place, you are giving him more reasons to rebel and potentially risk devastating the only chance your marriage has." She gave a subtle sigh. Even though he was hiding something, she couldn't push. It was hard not knowing, but that was the price she had to pay. "Okay, if you say so."

"For goodness' sake, what kind of passive-aggressive response was that?" she angrily thought to herself. She was just feeding into what Cyril was saying about her. No matter what she thought, she needed to stick to the plan. Spyro was improving and that was the important part. She just had to sit back and enjoy the transformation.

The afternoon was starting to get late. The tuckered-out youngster had since fallen asleep in the paws of his father. Solaria had decided now was a good time to head back; they needed to get cleaned up, ready for their dinner out.

However, as they were about to land, she spotted a familiar aristocratic dragon entering the temple. This reminded her she needed to update Cyril on the situation.

She turned to her mate. "Hey, can you go on ahead and get Ignirius and yourself cleaned up? I just remembered I need to talk to Cyril about something."

"Er, sure."

He seemed surprised, but that wasn't her concern at the moment. She handed the hamper she was carrying to him and dove after the guardian.

It wasn't hard to catch up to him, since he was on his leisurely stroll back to the office. "Good afternoon, Master Cyril."

He turned just in time to see her catch up to his stride. "Good afternoon to you as well, Mrs. Solaria. A pleasant surprise to see you today."

"I just happened to spot you, so I thought I would come talk to you. Plus, I need to update you on the plan."

Cyril raised an eyebrow. "Oh. You sound happier than usual. I presume it is going wonderfully?"

Solaria nodded, her smile growing ever so slightly, much to the guardian's amusement and relief. "Yes. Our plan has been going… better than I expected. He is paying much more attention to me and Ignirius. In fact, just this morning, he got me a card and some flowers, it was just so romantic."

"Well, I am glad to hear. Shall we continue this conversation in my office? We would not want the rabble to overhear us. We can take the lengthy path to avoid them."

She nodded and they continued down the deserted halls, taking the scenic route towards his office. This section of the temple was almost in pristine condition due to the absence of visitors. The checkered floors were mopped and scrubbed dry till they shone like gems. Oil-pastel paintings depicting guardians and warriors of old watched from the walls. Each one was signed in white by well-known painters. They strolled underneath several chiseled marble arches, each as immaculate as the last. Honestly, she didn't understand why people didn't come here, if only to look at the art.

Despite the temple's expansive maze-like structure, it didn't take long until they were behind the door of his office. He sat behind his comically small desk while she took a seat opposite.

It appeared the guardian had found some time to give the old office a clean-up. It had been meticulously cleaned until dust was a memory. The picture of his fallen comrade – her father – stood proud and watchful. Dozens of papers written in cursive were stacked and in line with the edge of his desk. Even the pale melted candles had been swapped out. They burned brightly at the tip of their wicks.

She explained to the guardian what she had and hadn't been doing, constantly reassuring him she wasn't butting in, much to the mild annoyance of Cyril.

"So, yeah, things have gotten better. But I really wish he would talk more. At the moment, all he says are words or phrases."

"One thing at a time, Solaria. It has only been a day, has it not?" He crossed his paws and his shoulders relaxed.

She hadn't noticed it before, but it seemed her words were bringing him as much comfort as they were to her. "I just don't know how to feel about the whole thing. Part of me is happy and excited about it happening, yet another is worried it still could go wrong. Can it still go wrong?" She grimaced.

"As long as we keep from intervening, I see no reason it can go wrong. Spyro is showing himself to be capable, so why change that? But saying that, have you any idea when he and Cynder plan to spend time together?"

She looked away for a second. "No… After what happened last time, I'm afraid to ask."

"Perhaps that is for the best, then. You just need to be prepared for him if he decides to vanish suddenly.

"But that will just drive me insane. Could you ask him for me? Please?" She leaned in slightly, her paws clasped together.

He nervously laughed. "That would probably not be the best solution."

"Sure it is. He hates when I ask because he thinks I get jealous –"

"But you do get jealous." He gulped when he realised her glare was targeted at him.

"As I was saying, Cyril, I don't see any reason he would get angry. He loves talking about Cynder, I know it. So could you please do this one favor for me?"

He sighed. He knew when he was beaten. "Very well. I shall ask him this once."

She chuckled to herself. Pulling strings was a bit of a guilty pleasure for her, one she was very good at. "Thank you. Let's go."

"Now?" he stuttered.

"Mhm." She nodded. "Might as well while he's in a good mood. Plus, I doubt after that leisurely walk you would say no to a longer break."

He stifled his lips. He knew he was beaten again, much to his displeasure. "Fine." Then he brightened up. "Regardless, it has been a fair while since I've discoursed with Master Spyro."

"Excellent."

She left the little office with a regretful guardian in tow.

"Soon, Spyro, we'll be a happy family again."